


What a Knight Must Do

by MrProphet



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 04:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	What a Knight Must Do

The Knight arrived on the fourth day, when the streets were filled with broken wood and scattered straw, and the villagers were gathering in their few remaining sheep. If the village was a sorry sight then so was the knight. His armour was battered, he wore no helm, his surcoat torn and stained; the designs on his shield and pennant were almost obscured by mud and the marks of wear and damage. He had no squire or following, but a small child sat behind him in the saddle and clung to his waist.

He rode to the inn and dismounted, lifting the child to the ground before entering.

“Have you any food?” he asked the woman at the bar.

“Not even for coin,” the woman replied bitterly, “not to fill a soldier’s belly.”

“Not for me,” the Knight replied. “For the girl.”

The woman scowled at him, but when she looked at the girl her expression softened. “I’ll see what I can find,” she promised. She was gone for a few minutes and returned with a meagre portion of bread and cheese and two flagons. “A little milk for the girl, all I can spare.” She handed him the second flagon. “I have only water for you.”

The Knight bowed her head. “Thank you. Your village…”

“We have no need for a protector, and no way to pay,” the woman replied in a harsh tone. “The giant has already taken everything that might be worth anything’; he’ll be back for the rest tomorrow morning.”

The Knight nodded. “I shall meet him then. Have you a room.”

“The inn is…”

“For the girl,” the Knight added, “and a stable for my horse.” He rose to his feet. “Which way does the giant come?”

“From the east,” the woman told him.

The girl jumped down from her stool and held out her hands. The Knight crouched beside the girl and embraced her. “Stay here,” he told her. “This fine lady will look after you.”

The woman shook her head. “What do you think you can do?” she asked. “The King is dead, the kingdom broken; ever since Arthur fell there have been bandits everywhere. Even if you defeat Yvaint, there will be others.”

“Perhaps,” the Knight admitted. He lifted the girl and set her down on the bar. “Look after her.”

“What’s her name?” the woman asked.

“I don’t know; she hasn’t spoken.” He stroked the child’s hair. “Keep her safe.”

“I will,” the woman promised, laying a hand on the girl’s arm. “I’m Gwladys. And… you are?”

“Nobody,” the Knight replied.

*

The Knight went out on foot and waited for the giant. Yvaint came at sunrise; he was seven feet tall and as broad as an ox, armoured in steel and carrying an iron-headed mace.

“Stand aside, little knight,” the giant commanded. “This village is mine.”

“The village is under my protection,” the knight replied, drawing his sword.

“What can you do to stop me?” Yvaint demanded.

“I do only what a knight must do,” the Knight replied.

*

They fought long and hard, from morning until noon, but then the giant withdrew and the Knight came down to the village again. His armour was torn, his body battered and bloodied. Most of the villagers locked their doors, but Gwladys brought him into the inn. She stripped off his armour, laid him on a bed and tended his wounds, which were many, and not all from that morning’s struggle. As she did so she saw that his left gauntlet was empty, the hand severed from the wrist years before. She brought him a bowl of thin broth and a cup of wine.

“You shed blood for us,” she said. “This is the least I can do. When you are better…”

“He will come again,” the Knight said. “I will fight him again, tomorrow.”

*

Before dawn, the Knight rose and donned his tattered armour. “Don’t go,” Gwladys begged him, and the girl clung to his leg.

“I must,” he replied. “I once swore an oath to defend the weak, and the death of my king cannot change that.” He kissed the girl and handed her to Gwladys.

Once more, the giant came at dawn, and he fought with the Knight. At noon he retreated, but the Knight fell where he stood. This time, several of the villagers went up and bore him down to the inn, where Gwladys tended him and brought him back from the brink of death.

“Now, will you rest?” Gwladys asked.

“I can not. He will come again tomorrow.”

“Then you are determined to die?”

“Prepared to die,” the Knight corrected.

“And what about her?” Gwladys asked, as the girl laid her hand on the Knight’s left wrist.

“I do this for her, and for those like her. She…”

“Eneuawc.” The girl’s voice was barely audible.

*

The giant came back at dawn and saw an armoured form barring his way once more.

“Where is the Knight?” he asked.

“At death’s door,” Gwladys replied, “Yet he would be here if I had not my mother’s herblore.”

“And what do  _you_  intend to do?” Yvaint laughed.

“What he has done these last two mornings,” Gwladys answered, drawing the knight’s sword. “Only what a knight must do.”

At that, the giant turned and walked away, to Gwladys’ great surprise. He returned after no more than an hour had passed, driving before him all the beasts he had stolen and drawing after him, in a wagon, all the goods he had taken.

“For two days,” he said, “my brother-knight has made me burn with shame, because he has not let the king’s death destroy him; because he would not lie down even when the cause was lost, let alone turn to banditry. What did you give him in payment?”

“Nothing.”

“That was what he told me. I told myself that he was a fool; that no-one would thank him or change because of him. Now you are prepared to die, and for what? For him. I defeated him, the great champion,  _twice_ , but it is to him that you look.” He handed Gwladys the reins of the cart horses. “Go back to your village and have no fear. I will watch this road; it is only what a knight must do.”

Gwladys turned to go, but the giant called after her. “Take good care of him. He was mighty once.”

“He still is,” she told him, “and I shall.”


End file.
